Opiates And Boredom
by gilbert norrell
Summary: Mello drugs Near with a relaxer and then entrusts him to Matt. Oops, wrong idea. This is crackfluff to the max.


Mello's expression should frighten him. It's maniacal, and the grin is splitting his face so wide dry lips crack and bleed. Mello waits. The syringe is held loose in one hand and a bead of liquid clings to the needle's tip before dripping to the carpet. Mello doesn't notice. He's watching Near's eyes grow dim, hazy, and Near's mouth turns up in an almost-smile that remains there.

"Hey, Mello," Near sighs, "I have Zing Wero Custom." He waves the mecha slowly in Mello's face. "See? I...I have...see? Right here. It's red. Wings Zero Custom."

Mello writhes silently on the ground in hysterics, tears streaming down his face.

Glorious.

Really, he should have tried drugging Near with the relaxer months earlier when he'd first nicked the stuff from the infirmary instead of waiting for boredom. His ribs are already aching but he can't stop. Near watches and starts giggling helplessly along but Mello straightens as solemnly as possible before shrieking for Matt.

"Maaatt?" Near breathes.

"Shut up. Say something else."

Near's reciting some odd thesis he's invented dealing with the relation of kittens to L's hair when Matt enters.

"Look! LookIfinallydruggedhimwiththatstufflookhe's_stupid_." Mello points. "Ask him something."

Matt practically bounds across the room. "Near."

Near blushes before he bites his lip and swipes at a curl.

"H...Hi...Matt." The glance through thick lashes is alarmingly coy.

Mello's eyes pop. No. Way.

"I'm getting your camera," he says, and runs off in a blur of golden skin and black denim shorts.

Near's suddenly fascinated with a scab on his finger, but concentration is interrupted with a shivery gasp when Mello slams the door closed. "It hurts."

Matt swallows hard.

"Hey, let's go somewhere safe before he comes back." Matt can already see a forced confession being drug out of the two with teeth and fingernails and promises of bullets once the sadist comes back armed.

"Maaatt. Teeeen. Eleveeeen." Near counts the three fibers in the carpet until that doesn't make perfect sense anymore and he falls to his side and gives Matt a sweet, dreamy smile. "He drugged me."

Yeah. Hide now, before someone else can exploit this.

(You know, the mean look in their eyes and all that.)

A grubby hand pulls Near to standing.

"I want a cupcake," the younger boy announces. "I like your hair, Matt. It's red. I want a cupcake. Mello's getting a camera. He's mean."

The staccato sentences are ignored as Matt, gripping Near's fragile wrist, pulls him down the hallway towards a side entrance until they're at the basement stairs.

Near teeters at the lip of the first and gives a soft _whoa_ before clinging to the other boy. His eyes have grown dim until they're color of smoke.

"I can't," he says simply. Fingers run through the short locks of hair at Matt's temples. "Soft, haha, Matt. I like you."

Matt's foot, lifted for descending, lands hard on the second step.

That was planned. Yes.

"Get on my back."

Near clambers on awkwardly and Matt shuffles carefully down the stairs breathing in the hot little gasps Near's making and hurries down into the laundry rooms where servants or subordinates or slaves or whatever they've decided to call them that week are working. They don't see the two boys duck into an extra linen room. Near is propped up on an ironing board and he giggles before blushing and reaching for Matt's hair.

Matt tries to think as the fingers dragging through in messy loops make his mouth tremble.

"Stop," he says absently. Mello would be looking for them, but Matt was hoping he'd get caught for skipping class in the search that should be taking place right now. Besides, he knew Matt used the basement all the time, and he may think that he'd take Near someplace more hidden, but then again...Near coos and a fingertip tracing the shell of Matt's ear bring a halt to any further thought.

"What'd he give you?" He doesn't knock the hand away and it ends up tracing the lines of his shoulder until finger hits fabric, then slips under.

"A...a. A and ah and oh and eh. Ah ee oo eh oh."

"A what?"

Near flaps one arm.

"Near baby, you're a dork."

"Mm. I'm so tired. Why are we here? We're in a laundry room. Mello drugged me and he's mean."

"I'm mean too," Matt says as he studies the half-camatose boy, so upped on opiates he may not remember the half-formed scheme Matt began forming upstairs.

"Mm," and Near's hand is beneath Matt's shirt cupping a freckled shoulder. Fingers grip at Matt's arm under the stripes and the lazy, fogged seduction grows a bit more earnest.

"Matt," says Near, trying to be firm. It's much to breathy to be taken seriously, but Matt's eyes are narrowed behind his goggles.

Near sucks in a breath. "I planned this."

Then he laughs until he slips off the ironing board.

Forgiveness comes with Near's whimper and then he's on his back with one of Matt's arms as a pillow between cement and the thick curls Matt's lipping as his thumb traces Near's mouth.

"You won't remember this," he whispers.

Near nods. "I planned it," he reminds, "sorta," and then his fingers are laced behind Matt's neck and he tugs the older boy down to lick his cheek. Matt meets his mouth with more tongue than he wanted, but he can't help it as a purr thrums through Near's mouth to his and Matt loses all jealousy and pride and just needs this.

When Near wakes up in his own bed there's a half-eaten cupcake glued to his pillow with frosting, and enough floats back in an obscure memory flushed with heat that he smiles.

Maybe next time he won't make himself forget.

EPILOGUE

Matt's tied to the bathtub and Mello leers over him crouching on the side like some freaky cat about to pounce. The water is too hot and neck-deep and every small console Matt owns has sunk to the bottom.

"Next time the two of you plot against me I'll kill you."

"Mello," Matt groans, "You're just jealous I took advantage of being seduced."

Mello hisses.

Matt cocks an eyebrow. It won't take that long to siphon some money off of L's accounts and buy everything back, but he's still irritated enough that he chances some retaliation.

"Nah, you're just jealous I got him first. _He's_ not tied up, is he?"

L's twitchy little second _leaps_ and Matt ducks the punch easily enough as Mello's foot slips on a cartridge and his fist connects with hardware instead of face. The blond rights himself at once, dripping. Mello fits so logically into the rest of the tub it makes sense to ignore how bony he is, knees digging into Matt's sides.

Now Matt's bruised lips are being studied so intently Mello almost goes cross-eyed.

"No," the blond replies. "But you are." He inches closer until their foreheads touch. A possessive growl runs through Mello before he attacks Matt's mouth, and Matt doesn't fight it.

Mello wasn't going to waste video on Near anyway.


End file.
